A Black Lebanese Superstar

What am I going to do with myself? That's what I wondered as I sat inside the food court of the Saint Laurent Mall in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. Of all the sexy ladies of all hues walking by, why is it that only SHE arouses me? I don't frigging know. All I know is that what I'm feeling isn't normal. And I consider myself a pretty normal guy. My name is Arthur Wahid. My mother Mariel Farouk Wahid is a Lebanese Christian immigrant originally from the City of Baalbek in the Republic of Lebanon. My father Youssef Wahid is Ethiopian. They met at the University of Ottawa in the Province of Ontario twenty five years ago, got married and had little old me, along with my brother Ibrahim.

My parents are a nice, normal couple. My dad is an Ontario Provincial Police Constable and he's also a Deacon at the Ebenezer Baptist Church in the East End of Ottawa. My mother teaches English at Saint Martin Catholic Academy. My brother Ibrahim is a Law student at the University of Toronto. Yeah, the whole family is pretty normal. So how did I end up being such a pervert? Being biracial in Canada isn't easy, but that's not what marks me as different. I've always been the kind of guy who pushes the envelope. I'm currently taking up business administration at Carleton University in the South End of Ottawa, Ontario.

By all appearances I'm a normal guy. I stand six feet two inches tall, slim and fit, with light brown skin, curly Black hair and pale brown eyes. The son of an African man who married an Arab woman, that's me in a nutshell. There aren't a lot of Ethiopians at Carleton University. However, there are a lot of Somalis. We have a complicated history, Somalis and Ethiopians. I don't really like them but you know, in this politically correct world, you smile and try to get along with people. Anyhow, where was I? Oh yeah. I was telling you about my freakish sexual attraction to ladies of a certain age. I'm into older women. By older I mean over fifty and under seventy. I like them older, plump and sexually freaky. There, I said it. You can laugh if you want. But this is who I am.

It's exam time at Carleton University. I only took three courses this semester and I don't really feel like studying. Business classes are boring as hell. Anyhow, I left campus to grab a bite at Saint Laurent Mall and that's when I spotted this fine-looking older White lady. She was clearly over fifty. Tall and plump, with big tits, a curvy body and a big ass. She walked with a younger blonde-haired Caucasian woman who had to be her daughter and her daughter's somewhat noticeably darker skinned son. I heard him refer to the elder lady as Grandma Emily. Well, I definitely had eyes for Grandma Emily. I sat near them and listened to their conversations.

The younger White lady's name was Jessica and her son was Paul. Jessica was going through a messy divorce with her Iranian-born husband Mohammed. Why doesn't that surprise me? I could have seen it coming a mile away. A lot of White women in Canada are into Arab guys now. A lot of their relationships end up badly because Arab men don't know how to deal with women who have minds of their own. In the Arab world, women are docile, obedient creatures who defer to men in the name of Islam. Arab men are fascinated by western women but don't know how to keep them. I've visited the Republic of Lebanon, and I know what I'm talking about.

From the chilly reaction of 'Grandma Emily', I could tell that she never approved of her daughter Jessica's relationship with Mohammed the Iranian guy but she clearly adored little Paul. Well, the conversation went back and forth with granny dearest saying a lot of "I told you so" until Jessica finally got mad, screamed "whatever!" and stormed out of the mall with little Paul in tow. Grandma Emily sat there, licking her lips and readjusting her glasses. I decided that I would make my entrance right then and there. I looked at granny dearest and with a look of feigned sympathy on my face, I apologized for the young lady's behavior. Grandma Emily looked at me with cold blue eyes. She was assessing me, as White folks are wont to do when dealing with Black men like myself.

I wasn't worried about that lady's evaluation because I am definitely one of the most confident men on the planet. Believe that, ladies and gentlemen. Hmmm. I knew what I looked like. Blue silk shirt, dark gray tie and Black silk pants. I've got an internship with Bell Canada in downtown Ottawa this semester and I've got to look professional, whatever that means. Grandma Emily smiled wistfully, nodded, and said that some people simply never learned. I looked at her and she looked at me. Now, she might be older than my own mama, and from a different race/ethnicity/background, but in that moment, none of that mattered. I was only a man and she was only a woman. With all that implied. That's all we are at the end of the day. The rest is just bullshit.

Grandma Emily looked at my picture ID from Bell Canada which hung in a lanyard around my neck, uttered my name and asked me to join her for the rest of her meal. I grinned broadly. I think you figured out my answer. And that's how I met Grandma Emily. The sexy fifty-six-year-old Irishwoman who would rock my world for much of April 2012 while my procrastinating ass tried to study a little bit. We exchanged digits that same afternoon. Like a lot of feisty, hot older White women, Grandma Emily was a no-nonsense kind of woman. She flat out told me that she thought I might be a good roll in the hay. Well, that suited me just fine thank you very much. Three days later I got a call from her inviting me to her nice little house in the Ottawa suburb of Orleans. I hopped on the number four bus to Rideau Shopping Center at Carleton University, grabbed the ninety five bus to Orleans once upstairs at Rideau and got my ass in Orleans twenty minutes later. And let me tell you, the trip was worth it!

Why was it worth it? The absolutely awesome sexing that Grandma Emily laid on me. The sexy older White lady got me into her bed, and we got buck naked. Once there, she sucked my eight-inch, uncircumcised dick like her life depended on it. She licked my balls and fingered my asshole while going down on me. I loved that shit. When I came, she drank my cum as if it were sweet nectar. Then I returned the favour by licking the hell out of her aged pussy. Older White pussy is my favorite, ladies and gentlemen. It's got a unique taste which I just can't get enough of and I crave it more and more. After practically polishing Grandma Emily's pussy with my tongue, I put on a condom and went for the ride of a lifetime.

Let me tell you, that plump older White woman really knew how to bring it. She climbed on top of me and grabbed my cock before pushing it inside her cunt. And just like that, she began riding me so frigging hard I seriously got worried she might break my dick. I think that can actually happen, you know? A chick rides a guy's cock so hard that she breaks it. Damn. That would be a tough thing to explain in the emergency room. Grandma Emily's big tits flopped about my face as I thrust my dick deep into her cunt. She screamed passionately and shouted things that made me, a season swearer, blush. We had a lot of fun. To the point that we decided to make it a regular event. I'm game for whatever this hot older White woman throws at me. Are you?